Pain
by Thn0715
Summary: A case involving a physically abused boy triggers painful memories for Hotch, forcing him to come face to face with his own demons in order to help him.  Warning for mentions of child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello again friends! It's been a little while since I posted anything in my usual angsty style. This should definitely make up for that. I'll go ahead and warn you now, this one was tough to write. Anything involving abuse is. It has bothered me for five years that the writers of CM hinted at the possibility of Hotch having an abusive past and then never going any farther with the story. It sent my imagination into overdrive! And so this story was born. **

**I did mess with canon a little bit. I made Hotch and Haley friends at a younger age, which you'll see in Chapter 2. I needed someone whom Hotch trusted implicitly, and in my opinion that person has always been Haley. I don't like messing with things that have already been established in the show, so I apologize and I understand if that bothers anyone. I would normally say I hope you enjoy this, but that really doesn't seem appropriate for a story like this, so I'll just say that I hope this strikes an emotional chord with you. Thanks for reading...**

**Warning: This story involves mentions of child abuse.**

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_**PAIN**_

Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi stood against the wall in silence outside the hospital room of twelve-year-old Ian Kessler. The boy had been beaten and nearly strangled to death by his own father. Luckily for Ian, his mother came home early from work that afternoon surprising her husband, causing him to release his son and turn his fist on her before storming out of the house.

It was a scene that hit way too close to home for Aaron Hotchner. And David Rossi knew it. He knew, as did the rest of the team, how cases involving children affected their Unit Chief on a deeper, more personal level. But the team didn't know Hotch's history. Dave did. He knew this case would bring back demons buried by his friend long ago.

Hotch had already spoken with Mrs. Kessler. Her husband was the prime suspect in the beating deaths of two other children in the area. They were certain her son was to be his final victim; that he would use the previous deaths as a screen to sway suspicion away from him and toward an unknown serial killer. Thanks to her, they now knew that his method was identical to the methods used in the two previous murders and a search was underway to find him.

He also informed her they would need to question her son, who had barely spoken a word since he was brought into the Emergency Room. Now they were waiting, giving her some time to prepare her son for what was sure to be a difficult few minutes for the boy.

"You don't have to do this," Rossi spoke softly. "One of us can do the interview."

Hotch shook his head. "I have to."

Dave sighed and nodded. He placed his hand on Hotch's shoulder. "You're not alone. Remember that."

Hotch nodded and turned toward the boy's room. Morgan quietly moved into Hotch's position beside Rossi. He looked concerned.

"What's going on, Rossi?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're coddling Hotch. Like you're trying to protect him from something."

"I do not coddle." He scoffed, but he didn't sound convincing.

"But you're definitely in protective mode. Is there something we should know about, Rossi?"

Rossi sighed and turned his attention to the boy's room. Morgan's eyes followed.

"Stay close and listen, Derek. You're about to find out."

Hotch took a deep, settling breath before entering Ian's room. He'd hoped to never have to come face to face with the demons that haunted his childhood, especially not publicly, but if he could help this boy find some understanding, some comfort, maybe even a little closure, then it was worth it. He and Prentiss entered quietly, leaving the door open.

Hotch nodded politely at Mrs. Kessler before approaching Ian slowly.

"Hi Ian. My name is Aaron. This is Emily. We're with the FBI. We need to talk to you about your dad, okay?"

At the mention of his father, Ian pulled his knees to his chest and curled up tight, trying to protect himself. Hotch recognized all the signs. It broke his heart to witness the boy's pain. He knew it all too well.

"Is it okay if I sit here with you?" Hotch asked, pointing to the bed. The boy nodded shakily, but remained tense, clearly still afraid. Hotch sat next to him but was careful not to touch him. His eyes and his voice were soft and gentle toward the boy. Prentiss had only seen him this gentle with Jack and knew immediately that there was something much deeper going on within her Unit Chief.

"I know how hard this must be for you," he spoke quietly. "I understand your fear. I know what it's like."

Ian looked up at him skeptically, but saw something in Hotch's eyes that made him relax ever so slightly.

"How do you know?"

Hotch looked down, closed his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath before facing the boy again.

"You see this little scar over my eye?" he asked, pointing it out. Ian nodded. Hotch smiled a sad smile at the boy before revealing his deepest secret.

"My father gave me that scar."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi again! A very special thanks to the nine awesome people who reviewed chapter one. Your reviews/comments/feedback are very much appreciated. The next few chapters are flashbacks to what happened to Aaron as a kid. Again, warning for mentions of child abuse.  
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_30 Years Earlier…_

Fourteen-year-old Aaron Hotchner stood in the rain in front of the Brooks residence. He had his little brother Shawn in his arms. Shawn was crying. It was late and the lights were out. He picked up some small pebbles tossed them lightly against Haley's window.

"Please wake up. Please wake up." He kept repeating to himself while trying to soothe his very young sibling.

"It's gonna be okay, Shawn. Don't worry. Settle down," he whispered as he continued trying to get Haley's attention. Finally he saw her light flick on and she appeared at the window. She looked down at the pair and knew something was wrong. She motioned him to the front door, then disappeared. Moments later the door opened quietly.

"Aaron? What are you doing here?"

"I didn't know where else to go." His quiet voice shook as he finally looked up at her. She gasped. His lip was bleeding. There was a gash over his left eye. There were red splotches on his cheek and jaw line, some starting to bruise. She grabbed his hand and pulled him in out of the rain as Shawn continued to cry.

"Shhhh. Shawn, please, please settle down. We're safe here. It's okay." He took Shawn's jacket off and rubbed the two-year-old's back. Finally Shawn started to calm down. He laid him down on the couch and knelt in front of him, rubbing a hand through his hair, reassuring him that he was okay. He felt Haley's hand on his shoulder and stood to face her.

"What happened to you? Are you all right? Do you want me to get my dad?" She rambled off questions, her voice filled with worry for her best friend.

"No. I just… I… I had to get us out of the house and I didn't know where else to go."

"Haley? Who are you talking to?"

Mr. And Mrs. Brooks came down the stairs. They'd heard the door open and heard soft voices coming from the living room. Aaron froze. He felt fear creeping up on him. What if Haley's father got angry like his own did? What if he punished Haley for helping him? What if he threw them out? Where would he and Shawn go?

"Aaron?" Mrs. Brooks' voice didn't sound angry. That relaxed him, but only slightly. "What are you doing here, son? It's late."

Aaron wouldn't look up at her. He was ashamed, embarrassed. When she touched his shoulder, he flinched. "Honey, are you all right?"

"I'm sorry I woke you." His voice was so small he barely recognized it as his own. It was shaky and cracked, filled with fear and insecurity.

"It's okay," Mrs. Brooks spoke gently, "but if something's wrong, I need you to tell me. Is it Shawn? Is that why you brought him with you?"

Aaron shook his head, no longer trusting his voice.

Mr. Brooks spoke up. "I'm going to call your father and let him know where you are and that you and Shawn are all right."

"NO!" Aaron's head shot up. His voice now rang with fear and panic; the same showed in his eyes. He forgot about the cuts and bruises on his face until Mrs. Brooks gasped. He quickly lowered his head and furrowed his brow, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. His secret was out.

"My God! Aaron, what happened to you?"

Mrs. Brooks tried to get a closer look at his face but Aaron kept his head down. He was trying not to cry. '_Boys don't cry_,' his father's demanding voice echoed in his head. '_Crying is for girls_.'

Mr. Brooks knelt in front of him and put his hand gently under Aaron's chin, lifting his head to look at his injuries. Aaron was trembling and trying to control his emotions. He kept his eyes averted.

"Look at me, son," Mr. Brooks spoke softly. He knew Aaron was afraid. His fear was literally radiating off of him in waves. It made Mr. Brooks nervous. Fear was not something he ever associated with his daughter's friend, and he didn't want to add to that feeling. He waited for Aaron to finally meet his eyes. "Did your father do this to you?"

A single tear slid down his battered cheek as he looked pleadingly at Haley's father.

"Please don't make us go home."

Mr. Brooks gently wiped the tear away and laid his hand on Aaron's shoulder. "We'll figure something out. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He was hesitant to let Shawn out of his sight. Even though he'd fallen asleep, Aaron didn't want him to wake up in a strange place and get scared. Haley noticed.

"I'll watch him, Aaron. I'll come get you if he wakes up, I promise."

He nodded in agreement and followed Mr. Brooks to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub while Mr. Brooks got a washcloth and some peroxide to clean his wounds. He started with the cut over Aaron's left eye.

"This cut is fairly deep." He kept his voice gentle. "Did he hit you with something?"

Aaron shook his head. He spoke so softly, Mr. Brooks had to strain to hear him. "He knocked me into the dresser. I hit my head on the corner."

"Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded?"

He shook his head.

Mrs. Brooks knocked softly on the door frame to keep from startling them. "Aaron, is your mother working tonight?"

He nodded. His mother worked nights as a nurse and was on duty tonight at the hospital.

"Does she know about any of this?"

Aaron shook his head. His mother had no idea what her husband was capable of. She thought his previous injuries were caused by crashing his bike or a fight at school. He'd never told her the truth. He'd never planned to.

"I'm going to call her and let her know what's going on. I'm sure she'll want to see you and make sure you're okay."

"We need to take him up there anyway. This cut's gonna need some stitches."

The thought of his mother seeing him like this made him uneasy and afraid all over again. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly. The move didn't go unnoticed.

"It's going to be okay, Aaron," Mr. Brooks tried to calm him. "He's not going to hurt you anymore. We'll figure something out."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi again everyone! I really appreciate the feedback I'm getting from you on this story. Keep it coming! This chapter is short. The next one will be considerably longer. Promise! And just wanted to give a special shout out to my anonymous reviewers whom I couldn't send a personal thanks to. You are awesome as well!**

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Aaron's mother and Dr. Thomas Metavoy, a doctor whom she worked closely with at the hospital, were waiting in the ER when Mr. Brooks and Aaron arrived half an hour later. She took one look at her son and immediately started to cry.

"Oh God, Aaron, what did he do to you?"

She was hesitant to touch him at first. She took in his appearance, trying to come to grips with what happened. She gently put her hand to his face and assessed his cuts and bruises. He flinched at first, but then leaned into her comforting touch. She hugged him tightly. The wince and whimper from her son didn't go unnoticed to any of them. She pulled away quickly. Pain was written all over Aaron's face.

"Aaron? What is it?"

He looked down, not wanting them to see how much pain he was really in. His mother saw right through him. She knelt in front of him, trying to make him look at her.

"Honey, lift up your shirt. Let me see." When he made no move to show her, she took it upon herself to very gently lift up his shirt. His entire left side was a yellowish purple, bruising taking near full effect. She gasped and hung her head. Dr. Metavoy put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We'll take some X-rays to make sure nothing's broken. And we need to contact the police."

"I tried to patch him up," Mr. Brooks told the doctor, "but that cut on his forehead looks pretty deep."

Aaron's mother barely heard the conversation between the two men. She was in tears and berating herself for her son's pain. "How did I not know this was happening to my own son? How could I have been so blind?"

"I've gotten good at hiding it," Aaron uttered in a dry, cracked voice, still avoiding eye contact with everyone. She watched as her son continued to try to shut down his emotions. She thought back to two previous times that Aaron had been injured. Two times where his explanations did not seem genuine. There had been something in his eyes that should have told her he was hiding something. Now, she needed to know the truth behind those incidents.

"Earlier this year," she hesitated, "there was no fight at school, was there?"

Aaron shook his head.

"And your bike wreck, when you fell down Dead Man's Hill and broke your arm? That didn't happen either, did it?"

He shook his head again.

"What really happened to your bike?"

"Dad took a sledgehammer to it to make the story more believable."

She buried her face in her hands. She tried to take some deep breaths to keep her composure. She looked back at her son: her brave, proud, confident young man reduced to a fearful, insecure, trembling boy. She reached out and touched his arm, and her heart broke a little more when he flinched at her touch for a second time.

"Come on," Metavoy urged them into a now vacant curtained off area. "Let's get you stitched up."

Mr. Brooks stayed with them, wanting nothing more than to protect the boy who had come to his daughter for help.

While stitching his cut, Metavoy explained a few things that were likely to happen over the course of the night.

"We're going to get you a room and keep you overnight. I just want to make sure you don't have any symptoms of a concussion and monitor your breathing because of your rib injury. When the police arrive they are going to want to take some pictures of your injuries and ask you some questions." He turned his focus to Aaron's mother. "You can stay with him while he's questioned. Actually, since his is still a minor, they will probably recommend it anyway."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, Tom," she replied. He sighed and nodded.

"Unfortunately, I am."

He finished stitching Aaron's forehead and took him to have his ribs X-rayed while another nurse escorted his mother to his room. Mr. Brooks excused himself to call his wife. He wanted to relay Aaron's condition and check on Shawn. As soon as Aaron's mother was alone, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi again! This chapter is considerably longer than the last one. We're finally going to get to hear Aaron talk about what happened and how long it's been going on.**

**Rockie... my girl! This update is for you! :)**

**Once again, warning for mentions of child abuse**

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When Dr. Metavoy returned Aaron to his room the detective was already there. Aaron immediately became nervous, especially when he noticed the other officer holding a camera. But he put on a brave face and sat in the chair next to his mother. She smoothed her hand over his hair and squeezed his shoulder, a sign of her unwavering trust and support in her son.

"Hello, Aaron. I'm Detective Miles. This is Officer Brady. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

"Good. I'm going to explain a little about what to expect before we get started, okay?"

"You don't have to," Aaron replied. "Dr. Metavoy already explained everything. I know you have to take pictures and ask me questions. I'm ready."

Detective Miles smiled and nodded at the brave young man in front of him. He could see clearly that Aaron was fighting to keep control of his emotions during what had to be the most difficult time of his life. He respected him for that. He motioned to Officer Brady to begin, and as he photographed Aaron's injuries, Miles spoke to Metavoy.

"What are his injuries specifically?"

"He has a laceration over his left eye that required five stitches. Bruising across his left cheek and jaw line, but nothing broken there. He does have two broken ribs and bruising to his left side. The X-rays also revealed a previously broken rib that has nearly healed itself."

"I'd like to get a copy of his medical record and the X-rays if I could."

"That won't be a problem."

"Thank you."

As he finished with the doctor, Det. Miles turned to see Officer Brady taking photos of the bruising on Aaron's side. He watched as Aaron winced in pain as he put his shirt back on. He shook his head sadly, wondering how on earth a father could do this to his own child. He had a son of his own. Abuse cases like this one made him want to go home, wrap his little boy in his arms and never let him go. Brady nodded to Miles that he was finished so the detective could begin his questioning.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions now. If you need a break, just let me know. I know you've been through a lot tonight."

"No, it's okay," Aaron replied.

"Okay. Can you tell me what happened tonight?"

Aaron took a deep breath, preparing to relive his hell.

"My little brother has an ear infection. It was really bothering him tonight. He was crying a lot and he couldn't sleep. I knew Dad was getting angry so I tried to get Shawn to stop crying."

"How old is Shawn?"

"Two and a half."

"Had your dad been drinking?"

"Yes. He gets angry faster when he drinks." Aaron's voice dropped in volume and he averted his eyes. Miles knew what Aaron meant was 'he gets more violent when he drinks'. He swallowed his emotions and continued his questioning.

"What happened next?"

"He came into my room and slammed the door."

"Was Shawn in your room?"

Aaron nodded. "I always keep Shawn with me when Mom's not home."

"Why?"

"To protect him. He's my little brother. It's my job to protect him." He said this as if it were the most natural statement in the world. His mother placed her hand on his shoulder.

"After he came into your room, what happened?"

"He yelled at me to shut Shawn up or he'd do it himself. I tried telling him that he was sick, but he didn't want to hear it. He grabbed Shawn's arm and started yelling at him to stop crying. It scared him so he cried harder. When I tried to get between them he shoved me hard and I fell into the dresser and hit my head."

"Is that how you got that cut?" Miles asked, pointing to Aaron's forehead. Aaron nodded. Miles jotted a few notes and urged Aaron to continue. Aaron showed no emotion whatsoever while telling his story. His mother, on the other hand, couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I got up and told him I wasn't going to let him hurt Shawn. He laughed and said if that was the case, I could have my beating and Shawn's too. And he punched me."

"Where?"

Aaron pointed to his bruised jaw. "He hit me three times before I fell down. Then he started kicking me and telling me how pathetic I was. Shawn cried the whole time and kept calling for me. The more Shawn cried, the harder he kicked me."

"What made him finally stop?"

"I stopped trying to get up."

Detective Miles stopped taking notes and looked up at the young man. He could hear in Aaron's voice that he thought himself weak because he quit struggling against his father. But Aaron kept talking.

"I waited until I heard the front door slam before I got up. I had to get us out of the house before he came back. I knew if he came back he'd hurt Shawn and I wouldn't be able to stop him. So I put some of Shawn's stuff and his medicine in my backpack and carried him to Haley's house."

"Who's Haley?"

"She's my best friend."

"She's my oldest daughter," Mr. Brooks clarified. Detective Miles nodded. He directed his next question to him.

"How far away from the Hotchner's home do you live, Mr. Brooks?"

"About a mile east."

Miles looked back at Aaron. "You carried your little brother a mile in the rain with two broken ribs?"

Aaron nodded. "I knew we'd be safe there." The detective smiled. So did Mr. Brooks.

"I only have a few more questions. Do you need a break?"

"No. You can keep going."

"Okay. When was the first time your father hit you?"

"The day after he found out Mom was pregnant with Shawn. She worked that night. He got drunk and was saying things like, 'I've already got one worthless kid. Why would I want another one?' I told him there were ways to prevent that. He punched me and told me to shut my smart mouth."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven. After that, each time got a little worse."

Detective Miles took a deep breath. The last question was always the hardest, but unfortunately it had to be asked.

"Aaron, I need to ask you one more question. I know this one may be difficult to answer, but please answer it honestly."

Aaron nodded his agreement and finally made eye contact with the detective. He maintained that eye contact for the duration of his questioning.

"Has your father ever abused you or your brother sexually?" Aaron's mother gasped.

"No."

"You're sure? He's never touched you inappropriately?"

"No. Never anything like that. He only hit me."

"What about Shawn?"

"No. I never leave him alone with Shawn."

Aaron's mother finally released the shaky breath she was holding. God, if that bastard had touched either of her boys in that way… simply thinking about it made her stomach churn.

"Okay. We're done. You did really good, Aaron." He stood and removed a business card from his wallet and handed it to him. "If you think of anything else I should know, or if you have any questions for me, feel free to call me. You can call me anytime, okay?"

"Okay."

"We'll contact you as soon as we have him in custody," he said to Aaron's mother.

"Thank you."

Officer Brady gathered his equipment and the two headed out. Detective Miles stopped at the door. "I'll be out in a second," he whispered to Brady before re-entering the room.

"Aaron?"

"Yes, sir?"

Miles walked up to him and knelt in front of him. He braced his hand on the chair, but was careful not to touch Aaron. He'd seen the way the young man had flinched at his own mother's touch and didn't want to add anymore to his obvious discomfort. But he needed to tell him something very important. And he needed to make sure Aaron heard him. Really heard him.

"Not a single bit of what happened to you was your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. Do you understand?"

Aaron nodded, but it wasn't very convincing. Miles wasn't done yet.

"And you are not weak. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did, to put yourself in harm's way to protect your brother. You are a brave young man. Don't ever let anyone tell you different, okay?"

Aaron looked up, and for the first time since he arrived at the hospital, his eyes glistened with tears. Miles smiled at him and nodded.

"I meant what I said. If you need anything, or if you just want somebody to talk to, you give me a call."

Aaron nodded again, not trusting his voice anymore. His mother shook the detective's hand and thanked him, and he left. She excused herself to check on Shawn and give Aaron a few minutes to himself to process everything that happened that evening.

Once he was alone he moved from the chair to the bed. He sat with his back against the wall, pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his knees forming a protective shield around himself. He'd fought so hard to hold his emotions in check, but now that he was alone he could feel his walls crumbling. _'Boys don't cry. Boys don't cry.'_ His fathers voice continued to yell angrily in his head. He wrapped himself up as tight as he could, but he couldn't stop the dam from breaking. One tear escaped. Then another. Then another. He finally gave in and allowed himself to cry.

When his mother returned to his room, he wiped at his eyes furiously to keep her from seeing his tears. And he kept his head down. "I'm sorry."

"Aaron," she moved closer to him and ran her hand over his head. "Detective Miles was right. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know," he choked out. "It's not that."

"What do you mean?" She watched him carefully.

He wrapped himself up tighter. "Boys don't cry."

"Oh, honey." She climbed onto his bed and wrapped him into a protective hug, continuing to run her hand through his hair. "Yes they do. Boys do cry. And there's nothing wrong with that. It's okay."

She heard the first choked sob escape his lips and the already broken pieces of her heart shattered. She kissed his forehead and held him tight as he broke. He clung to her and sobbed harder than he ever had in his young life.

"It's okay. It's okay," she continued to console him as she cried with him. "He won't hurt you again. I promise. He'll never hurt you again."

After about fifteen minutes, he'd cried himself to sleep. She tried once after waiting several minutes to untangle herself from him so she could check on Shawn. Even in his sleep, his grip on her tightened and he whimpered softly. She realized in that moment just how afraid her son had been tonight, and probably every night for over three years. So instead of getting up, she settled herself in and held him close for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi again friends! Now that we've heard Aaron's story, it's time to get back to Ian. I hope everyone's still enjoying this. Well...maybe 'enjoy' isn't the right choice of words, but you know what I mean! And thanks to all who have reviewed/alerted/favorited this story. It is very much appreciated! Back to the story...**

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_Present Day…_

"I'm going to tell you the same thing Detective Miles told me all those years ago, Ian," Hotch continued to speak to the boy in a soft, comforting tone. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was not your fault. And there are a lot of people, myself included, who are going to make sure he never hurts you again. I know you may not believe me right now, but I promise you're going to be okay. You know how I know that?"

Ian sniffled and shook his head. "How?"

"Because you're a brave, strong young man. Because you survived. And because you have a little brother to protect and look after, just like I did. Your little brother needs you to help him, to play with him, to teach him right from wrong, to show him how to grow up to be a good man. That's what we do as big brothers. You know, my little brother is over 30 years old now, and he lives in a different state, but there's still nothing in the world I wouldn't do to protect him. I bet you already know what that feels like, huh?"

Ian nodded. He still hadn't spoken, but he had relaxed considerably.

"There's something else I want to make sure you understand. Something that took me a long time to believe."

Ian looked up at him, giving him his full attention.

"Just because your father made the choices he made and did the things that he did, it doesn't mean that you'll be like him when you grow up. He made those decisions. Not you. You're better than he is. You won't be like him."

That was the one thing Ian had waited to hear all night. He surprised them all by climbing up to his knees and throwing his arms around Hotch's neck. Hotch hesitated at first, then hugged him back gently, running his hand through his hair and rubbing his back while the boy cried quietly.

"You're going to be okay, Ian," he whispered, choking back his own tears. "I promise. You're going to be okay."

Ian calmed down quickly. He let go of Hotch and sat next to him. Hotch smiled at him and brushed a stray tear from the boy's cheek, and got a smile in return.

"You think you can answer a few questions for me now?"

"Yeah. I'll try."

Hotch smiled. "Good."

Prentiss stood back against the wall with Mrs. Kessler watching the scene unfold. Her heart was in her throat. She was finding it unusually difficult keeping her own emotions in check. Never before had she witnessed Hotch so open with a victim. Sure, she'd seen him show compassion, empathy, sympathy, but never had she seen him relate to any victim on such a close, personal level. She'd only seen him so compassionate with one person… Jack. Watching him relive his own personal hell in order to help this boy; Prentiss' respect and admiration for him grew exponentially.

Mrs. Kessler listened while her son answered Hotch's questions. He was growing up right before her eyes. She'd never felt such conflicting emotions together before. She was guilt-ridden for not being able to protect her son, terrified for their safety since her husband was still at large, and yet, so proud of Ian for the way he was handling the situation. She'd cried many times since she brought her son to the hospital. When he hugged Agent Hotchner, she sobbed. She was so grateful that someone could bring her son comfort. Now she cried as she listened to her son recount being betrayed by the one man whom should have protected him with his life. Instead, he'd tried to take his own son's life from him. Prentiss was a comfort to her, rubbing her back and holding her hand while she listened as her son finished describing his version of hell.

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door by Morgan. He motioned to Prentiss. Hotch continued his questioning while the two agents spoke quietly in the doorway. She came back in moments later and walked up to Hotch.

"Morgan just got a call from Chief Yates. They caught him. He's in custody."

"Good."

Mrs. Kessler let out a sigh of relief and moved to sit next to her son, brushing her hand through his hair and settling it on his shoulder. Hotch smiled at both of them.

"You did really good tonight, Ian. You don't have to worry about him anymore. He'll never hurt you again." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It's going to take some time for you to really heal from all this. Anytime you need someone to talk to, feel free to give me a call, okay?" He handed Ian his business card with his cell number hand written on the back. "Anytime."

Ian took the card, holding it in both hands as if it were fragile, and nodded. Hotch stood to leave. Ian's mother stood as well. She shook hands with Hotch and Prentiss.

"Thank you for everything. I really do feel like he'll be okay now."

"You both will be, in time," Hotch answered. "Take care of each other."

"We will."

Hotch and Prentiss turned to leave when Ian's small voice stopped them.

"Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch walked back to Ian's bed. "My friends call me Hotch."

Ian chewed his lip for a second and looked up with big blue eyes. "Can I call you Hotch, too?"

Hotch smiled and nodded. Ian smiled big at his new friend. "Thanks, Hotch."

"Keep taking care of your little brother, okay?"

"Okay."

He shook hands with Ian and the two agents left the room, closing the door. Morgan and Rossi were waiting for them. Before either of them could say anything, Hotch stopped them.

"I need some air."

He rushed out of the hospital. Prentiss looked to the two men.

"Wow." She sounded like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Did you hear all of that?"

"We heard enough," Rossi answered.

"Did you know?" she asked him.

Morgan shook his head. "I had no idea. But it does explain a lot."

"I knew he had an abusive past," Rossi admitted. "I didn't know the extent. We've never talked about it." He rubbed a hand over his tired face. "I should go make sure he's okay."

Morgan put a hand on Rossi's arm. "Let me."

Rossi looked at Morgan and saw the sincerity in his eyes. He and Prentiss both knew Morgan had an abusive past as well, but as with Hotch, they didn't know the extent. Only Hotch and Gideon knew the full extent of the abuse Morgan suffered at the hands of Carl Buford. Rossi nodded and watched as Morgan went to check on their friend.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, this is it, friends. Here is the final chapter of "Pain". I hope you've enjoyed this little journey. Thank you all for the alerts and favorites, and especially for the reviews! Your feedback is always welcome and appreciated! Until next time...**

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Morgan found Hotch sitting on a bench in the hospital courtyard. He had his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, and his head down. He watched Hotch take slow deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down and quiet his mind. Morgan shook his head at the irony. All those years ago when his own past returned to stare him in the face, he had been so angry with Hotch for pushing so hard. He'd tried to protect his darkest secret so ferociously that it nearly cost him his freedom. But after what he just discovered, he couldn't help but wonder now if Hotch recognized the signs of childhood abuse and was trying to tell him that he understood without actually saying the words. That maybe he was trying to tell him he could trust him with such a dark, damning secret because he had a similar one of his own. He walked slowly across the courtyard and sat next to Hotch, mimicking his position. Neither spoke for several minutes, Morgan simply offering his silent support. It was Hotch who broke the silence.

"I haven't spoken about that day in 30 years."

Morgan looked at him curiously.

"Rossi guessed it when I was a new agent. I used to get overly worked up whenever we caught a case involving abused children. I confirmed his suspicion, but always refused to talk about it. Haley, of course, already knew. The only time we talked about it was when we started trying to have a baby. She knew I was afraid I'd become like him if I had a child of my own. She used to tell me all the time that it would never happen, that I was too good a man and would love my kid too much to let it happen. But we never talked specifically about that night. Not even Shawn remembers that night."

"What happened to your father?"

Hotch shrugged. "The police caught him that night. He went to jail, my mom divorced him before he got out, and I never saw him again. She remarried to a lawyer a little over a year later. That's the man Shawn knows as his dad. He knows that he's not his biological father, but he was his dad in every way that counted. Mine too, really. He's the reason I became a lawyer. I never reminded Shawn about our real father. I always considered it a blessing that he didn't remember."

"I can understand that," Morgan replied. "I guess we never really outrun our demons, do we? We keep trying, but it seems no matter how deep we try to bury them, or how fast we run, they somehow wind up right back in our faces."

"Yeah," Hotch whispered and hung his head again. They sat in silence a while longer before Morgan spoke up again.

"You know, it was a long time before I could stand in the same room with you and Gideon without constantly wondering if you were judging me because of my past, that maybe you thought I was weak or something. I knew neither of you would do that, but still, once that fear gets into your head, it's tough to turn it off, you know? It's difficult to trust anyone with a secret like that."

"I know. I hope it's another 30 years before I ever have to trust anyone with that again. If ever."

Morgan nodded his understanding.

"And for the record," Hotch continued, "we never once considered you weaker because of what Buford did to you. We thought you were stronger because of how you used the situation to make yourself a better man than he was."

"Let that be a lesson to you," Morgan countered. "We don't consider you weak either. Especially not after what I just witnessed. That little boy in there is going to be okay because he knows somebody out there cares about him. You made him believe that. You've always been the strongest person I know, Hotch. That hasn't changed. And it never will."

"Thanks, Morgan."

Morgan stood. "Anytime. Come on."

"I'll be in in a second. I need to make a call first."

It was then that Morgan noticed the cell phone and business card in Hotch's clasped hands. He smiled.

"You think he's still around?"

"Yeah," Hotch answered. "I had Garcia check. He's the Chief now."

Morgan nodded, clasped Hotch on the shoulder and went back inside. Hotch dialed the number from the business card and waited for the man to answer.

"Chief Miles, I don't know if you remember me. This is Aaron Hotchner."

The End.


End file.
